Moppets Dibent Do It
by colakirk
Summary: Part three of the Moppets series. Little Neal is in trouble again, but this time, he didn't do it! Will Peter believe him? Father/Son Warning: Contains Spanking - Don't Like, Please Don't Read
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Warning - this fic contains SPANKING of a child. If this is a concern for you, PLEASE DON'T READ.**

It would be a good idea to read Moppets and Moppets Go to School first otherwise some parts of this will be a bit difficult to follow**.**This fic is darker and more 'angsty' than my other Moppet Fics. So to cheer everyone up after they've read it, I intend to follow it up directly with Moppets Visit the Bureau - the Moppets fic I started ages ago but never got around to finishing. It should be a lot more fun!

**MOPPETS DIBENT DO IT**

"I dibent teal anyting!"

Elizabeth came out of the kitchen to see what all the commotion was coming through her front door. Her husband Peter was closely followed by two little moppets, one of whom had tears streaming down his face.

"Dadda, I dibent do it. I don't noooo how it got bear."

Peter continued on through to the middle of the living room as the boys placed their school backpacks at the bottom of the stairs before making their way over to their mommy for a welcome home hug.

"Peter, what's going on?" El cuddled both boys while at the same time being rightfully troubled to hear her littlest boy sounding so upset.

"Neal's up to his old tricks El. We stopped at the mall on the way home from school so I could sign the documents at the bank for our new account and on the way out the boys asked to have a quick look through the toy store. And guess what this little one decided would be a good idea?" Peter placed both hands on his hips and glared down at his smallest son.

"But I dibent Dadda."

"What didn't he do Peter?"

"He didn't follow one of our rules. The rules on the fridge. Rule number three. No more stealing."

"Oh Neal sweetie. Please tell me you didn't steal again."

"Noooooo Mommy, I dibent." The tear tracks down the little boy's cheeks were flowing freely.

"Then explain to me Neal, how a thirty dollar hand held electronic game made it into your school back pack?"

El was more than a little surprised with the news. "Neal! Why would you do that?"

He didn't answer his mom instead; the little boy stood looking ever so sorrowful with his head hung low.

"We were leaving the store when the security alarm went off. The store security officer looked in both the boys' backpacks and well, you know the rest El."

"Neal sweetie, I just can't understand why you would do that." El put an arm around her little boy's shoulder but he would not look up at his mom.

"I can't understand it either. I was so embarrassed and so very disappointed and now young man you are going to go to your room and you are going to receive a very sound spanking across my knee."

Peter's statement did nothing but bring a fresh round of tears down the little moppet's face.

"Off you go Neal. Up to your room now please. I'll be up in a minute."

"Yes Dadda."

Neal grudgingly took a step towards the staircase when his older brother, who had remained a silent participant throughout, finally spoke up, "Wait!"

Peter and El turned to the boy with curious looks. "What Mozzie?"

"Uh…Look, Peter….Um I'm sorry about this but ah…"

"Mozzie, I have used up all my tolerance for the afternoon. What is it?"

The young boy pushed his glasses up his nose, "Ah, look, I'm sorry but I was the one who put the game in Neal's backpack. It was easier to access than my own. I'm really sorry Peter. I should have owned up earlier and I'm certainly sorry for you Neal that I put you through all this."

Peter's face turned red and it looked like steam was ready to start pouring from his ears. "YOU WHAT?"

"I stole the game, or I mean I tried to steal the game but you know, the security alarms stopped me from taking it from the shop." The young boy rambled, fully aware that he was in a world of trouble.

Peter calmed down enough to give the kid a perplexed look. He no longer knew what to believe so he turned to his youngest, "Is this true Neal? Did Mozzie put that in your backpack?"

The little boy wiped his tears away and looked from his dad to his brother, his best friend. No way had Mozzie done it. No way Mozzie would ever firstly use him without asking and then allow him to be in trouble for as long as he was. "No Dadda, Mozzie dibent do it."

Peter groaned. This was getting out of control and his headache was growing exponentially with every passing second. He took a deep breath before continuing, Mozzie?"

"Yes sir." The kid expected the worse.

"What was the name of the game you put into Neal's backpack?"

"Ah…I…Mario Cart IV?" Maybe Peter didn't know either.

Peter glared at the young kid. Apparently he did know the name and Mario Cart wasn't it.

"Ah…I just picked any…"

"Stop lying to me young man!" Peter interrupted the feeble attempt to explain away what was obviously a fictitious story. "Why did you tell me you were the one who stole it when clearly you weren't?"

It was Mozzie's turn to hang his head low. "Cause I didn't want Neal to get into trouble."

"And how many times have we been through this young man? Every time Neal gets himself in trouble you try to take the blame. I've told you once; I've told you a hundred times, it only makes the situation worse." Peter wiped his hand across his forehead. "Neal, go to your room. Mozzie, go get the wooden spoon out of the kitchen draw and bring it to me please."

Both boys dragged their feet in opposite directions knowing their dad was no longer in any mood to argue the point. As soon as they were out of ear shot El spun and faced her husband, "Peter, is this really necessary? Mozzie was only looking out for his little brother."

Peter shook his head, "No El, every time he does it I tell him it only makes it worse but he does it again anyway. This time I'm giving him a little incentive to stay out of it the next time Neal's at fault."

El was about to respond when one sad little moppet walked back into the room carrying one dreaded looking wooden spoon. He handed it glumly to his dad and then studied the floor with his eyes. El gave Peter a stare before moving over and taking a seat on the couch. Peter looked down at his son and lifted his chin so he was able to make eye contact. "We've been over this before Mozzie, more times than I can remember. You tell me the truth every time and it will be better for you, better for me, and above all better for Neal. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir. I do?"

"Then how come every time we have to go over this?"

"I'm not sure." The kid eyed the instrument of torture and quickly added, "I won't do it again, I promise."

"I hope not Mozzie but you are still getting punished for lying to me." Without further ado Peter took the kid by his upper arm, turned him sideways and whacked him five times across his butt with the wooden spoon.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Owwww!"

Peter released his hold and the boy reached immediately for his stinging behind, jumping out and down on the spot hoping that action alone would take away the pain. Peter reached down and picked him up, carrying him over to the couch where his mom was waiting with open arms. "Now Mozzie," Peter placed a caring hand on top of the young boy's head, "I want you to try really hard in the future not to try and take the blame for Neal's indiscretions and no more lying young man, for any reason."

"Yes sir," the boy mumbled into El's chest where he had curled up as his mom began to administer a very comforting back rub.

"Good then." Peter straightened up and sighed deeply. Round two was awaiting his punishment upstairs and this one was going to be far more unpleasant for both parties. He avoided eye contact with El as he turned on his heels and began the way too short trek up to his son's bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter stood in the doorway trying, unsuccessfully, not to be influenced by the pitiful sight of the little moppet with his curly black hair ruffled out in every direction, his button down shirt half sticking out of his pants and his two little shoes with laces hanging loosely all the way to the floor, sitting forlornly on the end of the bed with his head in his hands. It wasn't going to be easy but Peter needed to make this one a lesson the little boy would remember for a long time. Neal could no longer afford to continue stealing as he had in the past. It hadn't been too difficult to get the store manager to agree to dismiss the attempted theft without any official involvement. The understanding manager who appeared way too young to be in charge of anything, had actually even looked a little sorry for Neal after seeing how upset 'dad' was over the incident.

Eventually, Neal was going to find himself in some serious trouble if he didn't curb his ways. Peter had thought the kid had already turned a corner, but after this afternoon's little transgression, he had been forced to reassess his trust in the young child. Peter stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Neal didn't look up as he felt his dad take a spot beside him on the bed.

"Neal."

"Yes Dadda?"

"Why did you steal the game?"

Neal blinked back the fresh tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "I don't nooooo Dadda."

"That's not an answer young man. Tell me why you felt you needed to steal something when you know if it's something you really want, you can talk to your mom and me about it and maybe use some of your pocket money to buy it." When Peter didn't get a reply he used his stern father voice. "Why Neal? Tell me why you stole it?"

The little boy was all mixed up in his head so he picked the first answer that came to mind, "I thought it would be fun, Dadda, I'm sorry."

"So you're finally owning up to it Neal. It's only taken," Peter checked the clock "two hours to tell me something that should have taken two minutes."

"Sorry Dadda." Neal repeated.

"Well sadly Neal, you are going to be sorry because I'm going to have to give you a very sound spanking, more than daddy normally gives you." Peter lifted the boy from his side and laid him across his lap. Neal began to cry immediately fully aware of how much it was going to hurt. Peter ignored the cries and pulled down the youngster's pants and underwear. "No more stealing Neal, ever," Peter ordered as he lifted his hand and brought it down firmly onto the little boy's butt. This was the point that Neal would normally wail out for his dad to stop but the kid stayed surprisingly quiet, weeping softly into his arms as his dad landed smack after smack leaving a trail of red handprints from the top of his butt to the top of his thighs. The youngster continued to cry as he received the very sound spanking he was promised. Peter gave three final particularly stinging smacks to the middle of Neal's behind to finish off the painful lesson. The little boy's weeping carried on long after his dad had stopped and it was unlikely he even realized the spanking was over.

Peter pulled up his son's pants and lifted him onto the bed so he was lying on his tummy. He put a gentle hand on Neal's back as he spoke kindly, "I'm sorry I had to do that little one. I didn't like having to do that but I don't want you getting into more trouble by thinking it's okay to steal. I want you to try and remember this lesson because if you do steal again, I'm going to give you another very hard spanking. Do you understand?"

Neal didn't reply. He had stopped weeping but his breathing was hitched and he was sniffling every few seconds.

Peter tried again. "Do you understand Neal?"

Still no reply.

"Okay then Neal, we'll talk later when you're ready to chat with me again. I want you to stay in your room until dinner. You can have a shower whenever you want but you are not to come downstairs." Peter patted the little boy on the back not expecting a response this time. "I'll call out when dinner is ready."

Peter headed back out into the hall but turned to look at his son before heading downstairs. Something wasn't right. Neal wouldn't normally be so withdrawn after a spanking, in fact usually the opposite. It was more his scene to go screaming off to El for some TLC. At the very least, he was always vocal during the punishment, this time he had been uncharacteristically quiet. Perhaps it was that this time he had given Neal a more severe spanking. Perhaps it was that Neal knew he had disappointed his mom and dad terribly by trying to steal the game. Peter hoped it was something that straightforward. Unfortunately, he knew the kid better than that and nothing was ever straightforward where young Neal was concerned.

-W-C-

Peter called Neal three times for dinner before the young chap eventually made his way down the stairs, wearing the same clothes from earlier. The youngster sat down hesitantly, still feeling uncomfortable and tender from his trip over his daddy's knee. Neal put his elbows on the table and made no attempt to put food in on his plate. El noticed, and after a concerned look in Peter's direction, she placed a hearty serving of spaghetti and meatballs onto the little boy's plate. "Would you like some parmesan cheese sprinkled on that Neal?" El asked sweetly.

The young boy not only remained silent, he made no attempt to begin eating as the other three made quick work of the first couple of bites of their evening meal. "Neal, start eating your dinner please," Peter ordered after swallowing another mouthful. "Neal…"

There was no response from the young boy. He just sat staring at his food, in no way tempted to even pick up his fork.

"Neal." This time Peter gave the kid his full attention. "Neal, pick up your fork and start eating please."

El had also stopped eating and tried a different tact. "Sweetie, are you feeling sick in your tummy. You don't have to eat if you don't feel well. Is there something else I can make for you? Would you rather a sandwich?"

Neal wouldn't even look at anyone, let alone answer them. Eventually, after the others had finished off their meals and Neal's remained totally untouched, Peter ordered, "Okay young man, if you're not going to eat your dinner and you're not going to explain to us why, you might as well head off to bed."

The little chap stood up and began walking towards the stairs when El called out, "Mommy and Daddy will be up to tuck you in and kiss you goodnight in a couple of minutes sweetie."

Neal didn't turn back but continued on walking, looking utterly defeated. Mozzie stared after his friend, looking extremely concerned. Peter turned to El, both parents looking totally lost.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Peter and El were not at all surprised that only Mozzie made his way down to breakfast. They were grateful that it was a Saturday and were not having to fight their youngest into getting ready for school. When they'd gone up to Neal's room the night before to kiss him goodnight, the little chap had kept his eyes shut pretending to already be asleep. When they checked on him twenty minutes later, he was no longer pretending, clearly in a deep, sound sleep, if the light snoring was any indication.

Peter finished off his coffee and made a move to go up and get his troubled young son but was stopped abruptly when his phone buzzed to life on the table. "Peter Burke."

The agent paced around the living room as he listened to what appeared like a very disturbing conversation. "...Yep...fine...okay...I appreciate the information...thank you for letting me know." Peter hung up the phone and sat back at the table. "Mozzie, go out the back porch and see if Satchmo needs his water refilling please."

"Yes sir." Mozzie knew that was Peter speak for he wanted to talk to Elizabeth alone and he was to leave the room.

After the older child had disappeared out the back, Peter relayed the phone conversation. "El that was the manager from the toy shop down at the mall; he said last night after close of business, they reviewed the security tapes and…"

"And what Peter? Did Neal take something else?"

"No, and he didn't even take the game."

"Huh, Peter I don't understand."

"On the security tapes it shows Neal standing in the electronic games isle wearing his backpack, it was wide open."

"He's always leaving it unzipped. I keep warning him that he's going to lose something out of it."

"Yeah, if only he'd have been that lucky. Anyway, while in the isle, he turned around quickly when I called out that we were leaving and as he's spun around, he's knocked the game off the hook and it's landed in his open bag. They could tell from the surveillance tape that Neal was totally unaware of what happened."

"Oh Peter, and you gave the poor little boy such a severe hiding."

"I know El." Peter started shaking his head. "And now I have no idea what to do... What should I do El?"

"I don't know Peter. I haven't a clue."

-W-C-

Peter stood outside his son's bedroom feeling like the worse parent in the whole world. How many times had his little boy told him, 'I dibent teal it Dadda'? As he stepped into the room, he had no idea how to make this right. How did you take back a spanking?

Peter sat down on the bed where his little boy was curled up cuddling Sunny. He placed his hand on the little one's shoulder and swallowed hard. "Neal. I have something to tell you." Peter's voice was soft and gentle and lacking any ounce of its usual confidence. "Neal…The toy store rang me just before and they have a video of how that game got in your school backpack. It seems that when you turned around to leave, your bag caught the hook that was holding the game and the game slipped in." Peter waited for the information to sink in. Not that Neal needed any time, the kid was incredibly bright. You could tell him a dozen things at once and he'd have no trouble interpreting. Peter pulled the little boy up and sat him on his lap. "Neal, I'm sorry I didn't believe you yesterday when you told me you didn't steal the game and I'm sorry I gave you a spanking for something you didn't do. Neal…Daddy is very sorry." He pulled the little boy in tight and hugged him for ages. After a long stretch of silence, Peter heard Neal's tummy rumbling. "Common kiddo, let's go get you some breakfast."

He carried the child downstairs and sat him on his lap.

"Good morning sweetie." El walked over and kissed the child on his head. "Do you want me to pour you some cereal?"

When Neal didn't respond, Peter suggested, "Yes thank you Mommy. His tummy is all empty. A nice big serve please."

Elizabeth dished out the breakfast and placed it in front of the child. Peter picked up the spoon when he realized it was highly unlikely Neal was about to and raised it to his son's lips. Neal opened his mouth and Peter slid in the spoon. It was like feeding an infant, not a five year old boy. Under normal circumstances, the agent would have objected severely to the babyish behavior but the mere fact that the little guy was responding at all warranted turning a blind eye to the rule book. Peter fed the child the entire bowl of cereal then set him back down on the floor. "Why don't you go out the back with Mozzie for a while, he's playing with Satchmo?"

Neal didn't look back as he headed out to where he could hear his brother running around. El came over and sat with her husband. "Any suggestions Peter?"

"Nup. I am seriously out of my element here El and I'm more than a little concerned that whatever I do next is only going to make things worse."

-W-C-

As the days past, the situation with Neal didn't improve as hoped. Although the little guy was now feeding himself, he hadn't uttered a single word to anyone since 'the incident.' As hard as Peter and El tried, they were unable to entice him into any verbal interaction. Most of the time, the youngster would follow directions – 'Have a shower,' 'Get dressed for school,' 'Eat your breakfast,' 'Get into your pajamas,' but as far as answering even the simplest question, the boy wouldn't so much as shake or nod his head. And then there were the times where he just dug his heels in and flatly refused to comply in any matter or form.

Mozzie didn't appear to be having any difficulty with the situation. It was no great surprise that he could communicate with his younger brother, despite evidence to the contrary. The two boys always seemed to have some quirky underlying telepathic ability going on between them. Mozzie and Neal were quite capable of carrying out an entire conversation without the need for words or gestures.

School was an issue. Neal had reverted back to his old ways of withdrawing into himself and shutting out any attempt Mrs. Roberts made to have him interact with the rest of the children. But school wasn't the biggest problem. The biggest problem was Peter. The guilty father wasn't handling the situation well at all. He blamed himself completely for the mess that had turned the harmonious family unit into a disjointed, dysfunctional small group of people sharing the same house.

By the end of the week, Elizabeth didn't know how much more she could take and called in a favor from a family friend.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hello Rachel, thanks for coming." El stepped aside to let the welfare officer through the door.

"How are you Elizabeth?" She greeted her friend with a kiss to her cheek and a comforting hug.

"Not that great I'm sorry to report. Come and sit down and we'll tell you all about it." El led Rachel through to the dining table.

"Hi Rachel." Peter placed the salad and bread rolls onto the table and turned to give his old friend a warm embrace.

"Hi Petey. Good to see you again." Rachel traced her fingers lightly down the side of the agents face. "You look…"

"Old?"

"No, I was going to say empty."

Peter chuckled without humor, "That would have been my next guess."

"Let's eat lunch first and then we can discuss our little moppet issue," El indicated for everyone to take a seat.

During lunch, Peter filled Rachel in on 'the incident' and the social worker took it all in with an understanding expression and a genuine concern for the troubled parents.

"So Neal has totally withdrawn and hasn't spoken in a week and Mozzie's been on his very best behavior?"

"That about sums it up." El topped up the coffees around the table.

"Interesting…and they haven't run off?"

"No!" El looked horrified. "Why do you ask?'

"I ask because every time the two little rascals have run off in the past, it's come after a couple of days of guess what?"

Both Peter and El shrugged.

"Neal becoming all quiet, well that's to say he would stop saying the one or two words he might utter in a day and Mozzie displays nothing but perfect behavior. I know this because the foster-carers would always start with, 'you wouldn't know there was anything wrong'. Anyway, I believe Neal's not talking would all be to do with him trying to shut everyone out so that when he did move on, he wouldn't struggle with missing their…support, for want of a better word. And Mozzie being well behaved would be because he didn't want to bring any undue attention to himself that may interfere with his escape plan."

"Rachel, are you telling us that the boys are going to run away again?" Peter shook his head while El wiped at the corners of her eyes.

The young woman smiled reassuringly. "Oh no Petey. I'm saying this is a testament to how much the little guys love you and El. Under past conditions, the boys would have been out of here long ago. One or two days max before they abscond from custody. But look, despite everything, despite Neal shutting everyone out, despite him being punished for something he didn't do, despite you not believing him or trusting him, despite Mozzie supporting his brother and standing by him, despite all of that and more, the boys are still here. They went through all the motions of moving on, yet they don't want to go anywhere."

"Well we'd hardly be able to blame them if they did decide to get a better deal elsewhere." Peter's tone was full of despair.

El gave Rachel a look that said, 'see what I'm talking about.'

Rachel reached over and placed her hand on top of her friends. "Petey, no matter what you think of yourself as a parent right now, because you made a mistake and feel guilt beyond belief, let me just tell you this, if I ever have a child of my own, and for some reason I'm unable to take care of them, you would be my first call. I would trust you with my child more than any other parent I know, and Petey, I know a lot of parents."

Peter sighed, "That's a nice sentiment Rachel and I appreciate you trying to make me feel better but how many of those parents do you know have punished their child for something they haven't done without even considering for a second that they may be telling the truth?"

Rachel laughed out loud, "Honestly Petey? Uh, all of them."

Peter rolled his eyes.

"Look, it happens, and it happens to all of us because guess what, were not perfect, and as much as we'd love to be the perfect parent, well it aint ever gonna happen. Feeling guilty is fine, feeling guilty is good, it makes us a little more careful the next time around but it shouldn't stop us from hanging in there and riding out this latest little crisis. Now we've already established that if Neal and Mozzie were going to take off, they would have done it days ago so the next step is, to return to business as usual."

"What do you mean," Elizabeth inquired.

"Well, tell me some of the things you've done differently since this all started."

Peter rested his chin on his hands. "Nothing except for the fact that Neal doesn't talk any more, everything else is the same."

"Are you sure Peter?"

"Actually honey, you know last night when you asked him what flavor ice-cream he wanted for desert, and you let Mozzie tell you what Neal wanted. You never allow that normally."

"Before last Friday, how would you have handled it if you asked Neal what flavor ice-cream and he didn't answer you?" Rachel inquired.

"I would have closed up the freezer and told him he should seriously consider telling me what he wants the next time or he'd find himself missing out again."

"Now let me ask you this, has Neal done anything this week that you would have, under normal circumstances, punished him?"

"Uh, I don't know, possibly." It was totally out of character for Peter to sound so unsure of himself.

"I'm pretty certain honey that Neal would have found himself with a very sore backside on Wednesday night after you had to ask him three times to come in and have a shower before dinner. And when he finally decided to come in, he skipped the shower and put his pajamas over the top of his play clothes."

"Yeah but El, I'm not the only one at fault here. You didn't say anything either and you never allow the boys to come to the dinner table unless they're in pristine condition."

"You don't think that's a little bit of an over exaggeration Peter?" El was starting to get a bit edgy.

"Alright then," Rachel was beginning to feel less like a welfare officer and more like a marriage counselor. Children had an uncanny way of turning even the strongest of relationships on their heads. "Can we all see what's happening here?"

Peter and El gave Rachel puzzled looks. "I guess not…Listen, Neal's very likely over, 'the incident'. Rachel used her fingers to gesture the quotation marks. But he can't get himself back to where he was before last Friday because you two are different. When he came to live with you, Petey you were the poster boy for consistency. He knew where he stood and he could work with that. He knew that if he crossed the line with you, he'd get a good whack on his behind. But now, he's not only crossing the line but he's jumping all over it and you're standing on the side saying, 'Well I guess that's okay, Neal. I'm not sure how to handle it so I'll just stand here and watch."

"But Rachel…"

"No Petey," the young lady spoke firmly, "You need to get back on the horse, you made a mistake, but you have to move on before Neal can. The little guy knows you love him unconditionally but he needs to know that you'll be his dadda again. To do any less…"

Rachel stopped talking as all three turned towards the front door, the rattling of the lock and the sounds of it opening drawing everyone's attention away from the current conversation. They were all most surprised to see the subject of their conversation come through the entrance, stopping only for a second upon seeing three sets of eyes staring in amazement in his direction, before disappearing up the stairs and out of sight.

"School finish early today?" Rachel asked even though she knew very well it hadn't and also knew that Peter and Elizabeth did not allow their kindergartener to walk home by himself. She turned back to the frustrated parents. "I believe your little moppet is jumping all over that line again!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Thank you all for your continued support of this series and as promised, Moppets Visit the Bureau will begin immediately after this fic - a little bit more mischief and fun in that one! A friend of mine, Bluerose88 has begun to write her own version of this fic, titled** Betrayed**. You should find it towards the bottom half of the first page. I'm really enjoying reading it because in it, the boys are just that little bit older, meaning they can get up to just that little bit more mischief! And Bluerose is doing an awesome job, considering English is not her first language. Trivia: Rachel Hammond's character in this series is actually Bluerose's alter-ego!

**M-O-P-P-E-T-S**

Brrrrriiiig, Brrrrriiiing. Brrrrriiiig, Brrrrriiiing.

El jumped up and grabbed the phone, her head still spinning from the latest episode of this crazy little drama. "Hello…Yes…No, in fact he just walked in the door…really….look I'm so sorry…yes we will…tomorrow at 8am…that's fine….see you then…and sorry for the trouble…bye."

El switched off the phone and sat back down with Peter and Rachel. "Uh, that was the school. They said Neal did not return from recess and they did a search of the school and couldn't find him anywhere. They were just calling us and then the police were going to be called next."

"He took off? Did they say why?"

"No, but they sounded incredibly relieved when I told them he was here at home."

Rachel decided that the troubled parents needed a bit of prodding. "Listen, as an outsider looking in, it's sometimes easier for me to see the bigger picture because I'm not as close to the situation but honestly, I think you're both fully aware of what's going on here. You're doubting yourselves because of what happened last week but that little boy up there is spinning out of control and he won't stop until you take control again."

Peter looked at Rachel, then across to El, and then with great reluctance, he stood up and slowly made his way over to the stairs. Both women gave him reassuring smiles which went nowhere in convincing him that he was going to be able to handle the next round appropriately.

-W-C-

He looked into his son's bedroom and saw the little boy sitting at his writing desk, pencil in one hand, Sunny in the other. Peter took a seat on the child's bed and watched him from behind, drawing in his sketch pad, for a good five minutes while he mulled over what he could possible do or say to bring things back into line with how they were before the disaster happened a week ago.

Eventually, he found his voice. "Neal."

The little chap put down his pencil and turned in his chair to face his dad.

"Neal, come and sit with me please."

Normally, the youngster would comply immediately but this time he just sat in his chair, staring at his dad.

"Neal, if I have to come and get you, my hand is going to land very firmly on your behind after I lift you off your seat so I'll ask one more time, come and sit with me please." Peter patted a spot beside him on the bed and waited.

Neal looked like he was considering his options. Eventually, after what seemed like a very long time in Peter's eyes, the boy turned back in his chair, picked up his pencil and continued with his drawing.

Peter sighed deeply and rubbed his hand across his forehead before getting up and walking over to the young boy. He carefully took Neal's pencil out of his hand and placed it on the desk. He extracted Sunny from under Neal's arm and placed him beside the pencil. Next he lifted the little rascal up from his chair and as promised, whacked him very firmly across his behind with his large hand. Neal yelped and reached for his backside, more than a little surprised that it hadn't been just another empty threat.

Peter made his way back to the bed and was happy this time to see the little boy following the directions and taking up the spot beside him.

"Neal, I want to know what you are doing home from school. They rang us and said you took off at recess and no one could find you anywhere. They were about to ring the police."

Neal crossed his arms and kept his eyes downcast so he didn't have to interact with his dad.

"Young man, look at me please." Neal didn't look up so Peter gently lifted his chin until they made eye contact. "Why would you run away from school in the first place and more of a concern to me is, why would you think, under any circumstances, it would be okay to walk home by yourself? You know how I feel about that."

Neal continued to stare but didn't respond, didn't give any indication he'd heard any of the lecture. Peter sighed and took a long deep breath before continuing. "Neal…What you did was very naughty and unless you're going to give me a very good reason why you did it, I'm going to be left with no choice but to give you a spanking."

The youngster heard that part, because he's eyes went wide and he's face began to pale. He opened his mouth and Peter hoped against hope the kid was about to start sprouting off a string of protests but, disappointingly, he closed his mouth and looked down at the floor once again.

Peter's heart sank as he realized he'd have to carry through with his promise, as much as he would have given anything for Neal to come up with some lame excuse as to why he'd ditched school and trekked home a dozen blocks all by himself. Peter lifted the little boy up and laid him across his lap.

"Wait!" Neal shouted and began to struggle as he finally understood Peter was going to see this through.

Peter was startled to hear the little one's voice again and immediately lifted him up off his lap and stood him in front where he held him by the shoulders. "What, what is it Neal?"

"I don't wan a panking dadda."

"Well why did you leave school and walk home all by yourself?" Peter hoped it was going to be even just a semi-acceptable excuse.

Neal shrugged his shoulders.

"That's not an answer Neal. Why did you do it?"

"Cause... I wad just bowred doin notink an I fwelt wike comin home."

"That's it? You were bored and just felt like coming home?"

"Yeah."

"Nothing else?"

"No Dadda."

_Damn!_ "Well Neal, I'm going to have to still spank you for doing that. You know you don't go taking off from school and you certainly know I don't allow you to go walking around the streets by yourself, don't you?"

"Yeah Dadda."

"Okay then, across my lap please." Peter tapped the tops of his thighs.

"Bu I don't wan a panking Dadda."

"Then next time Neal, don't run away from school." Peter took his son and pulled him over lap, pulling down his pants and underwear in one swift movement. He lifted his arm and brought it down firmly onto the little boy's behind.

"Owwwwwww!" Neal screamed out and Peter was so happy to hear that unpleasant squeal that he confidently brought his hand down another nine times. Neal kicked and squirmed and protested and yelped with every whack and when the spanking was over, and Peter lifted him onto his lap for a cuddle, Neal jumped off at his first opportunity and ran running out of the room screaming out, "Mommy! Mommy!'

At first Peter smiled and then laughed at the retreating youngster holding his butt as he ran from the room. But slowly, all the stress, all the concern, all the doubt from the last week caught up with him and he put his head in his hand and allowed himself to shed tears of relief that had been held in for way too long.

-W-C-

Later that afternoon, when peace, quiet and 'normality' had returned to the Burke household, Peter and Neal took Satchmo for a walk down to the river. Peter held the little boy's hand tight as they crossed roads and passed through the occasional sections of crowed sidewalks. Neal always enjoyed strolling to the riverside park with his dad. Once he got there, Peter allowed him to toss stones into the water to see how far out he could hit. It was a fun challenge to see if he could reach an old jetty pole that stood like a lone sentry about thirty feet from the riverbank. The little boy had come close a few times but was yet to hit his target.

The pair stopped for a break at one of their favorite park benches and tied Satchmo up to the frame. Peter lifted Neal onto his lap and wrapped the edge of his jacket around the little one to protect him from the wind.

"Neal."

"Yeah Dadda?"

"Last Friday, after it all happened, how did you feel?"

"I fwelt sorw."

Peter chuckled, "Apart from that, apart from your sore bottom."

Neal snuggled in close to his father's chest. "I fwelt…cwanky. I fwelt…sad. Most I fwelt…didappointed. You dibent beweive me an dat made me bery unhappy."

Peter kissed the top of his young son's head. "I'm so sorry little man. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you or believe you. I'm sorry I disappointed you and let you down."

"It okay Dadda. You towld me you wewr sowwy." The little boy dug his arms in under his dad's jacket and wrapped them around his waist. "When we ge home, I want oo ta wite out wule numba ten, I tink tweny times should do it, cause I tink you forwgo it dadda."

Peter leaned back so he could see the little moppet's face. "Rule number ten?"

"Yeah, you nooo, ta wules on ta fwidge oo aw aways pointing to."

"Yes Neal, I know the rules."

"Well dadda, seems wike you forwgo wule numba ten, ta most idportant one."

"Maybe I did Neal, remind me again what it says and daddy will write it out twenty times when we arrive home."

Neal smiled proudly at his daddy, "It says, nooo mawter what happens, noooo mawter what you do, your wittle boys will aways wove ooo."


End file.
